


Break Away

by LilacLetter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brother Feels, Brothers, Cell Phones, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Family, Family Feels, Family Issues, Gen, Late at Night, Light Angst, Loneliness, Missing Scene, Stanford Era (Supernatural), Stanford Student Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 03:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30082677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacLetter/pseuds/LilacLetter
Summary: Sam ponders his life choices and thinks of his big brother. He wishes Dean were here with him – but then again, would that be wise? Set in the pilot 1x1 (companion fic to ‘Missing Piece’).
Kudos: 2





	Break Away

**Author's Note:**

> Set a few hours before Sam is reunited with Dean at Stanford (pilot episode). This is a companion fic to ‘Missing Piece’, same time frame, this time Sam’s POV. Reading the other story isn’t necessary to understand this, but they do go well together.
> 
> It was first posted on FF last year under the pen name Lilac Letter.
> 
> Supernatural isn’t mine.

It was late at night … or very early in the morning, depending on one’s perspective. While Jess was safely tucked in in the other room, Sam was sitting at his desk, bent over a law book. He didn’t bother turning on the lights as not to disturb his girlfriend’s peaceful sleep. He wasn’t really reading anyway, just staring absentmindedly at the dim letters in the sparse light of dawn.

Later that day, Jess was going to drag him to a Halloween party. He didn’t feel like going at all, had tried to tell her so – but one of the things he loved about her was her stubbornness. So, he kind of had to go. Still, he dreaded the idea. Everyone would dress up, get drunk, and pretend that this was the scariest night of the year when Sam had lived through worse nightmares than his college buddies could even imagine – fighting _real_ monsters.

He hated Halloween. But that was only one of the reasons he was wide awake tonight.

Sam wasn’t much of a sleeper, had never been. Even before college he’d never gotten more than a few hours rest per night. Functioning on very little sleep had been hammered into him for a long time, curtesy of the hunting life.

Sam huffed at the unpleasant memories popping up in his head – of his previous life, of Dad …

He’d been on bad terms with Dad for years. The final straw had been another fight with the old man when he had insisted on Sam skipping an important college interview for a hunt.

So, he had finally left. 

… After following his dad’s never-ending rampage for almost two decades, always craving for revenge, taking his grief out on every monster that crossed their path. Dad had never gotten over Mom’s death.

Well, that was another reason why Sam couldn’t sleep a wink tonight. The anniversary of his mother’s death was approaching – one more reminder of his old life.

He recollected what it had meant: Being on the road all the time, never being in one place long enough to take up residence, being trained and drilled more than being cared for … Hunting wasn’t about _living_ but only about _surviving_.

And Sam wanted to live.

He slouched in his chair and closed his eyes, thinking.

He had settled into college life almost three years ago. He’d found a place for himself, friends, even a girlfriend, and he was excellent at what he was doing – acing all his tests. Reading and studying and researching came naturally to him.

It was a good life, normal, ordinary. _Finally_.

Sam only belatedly realized that _happy_ wasn’t among the attributes coming to his mind when summing up his current life. But when he did, it hit him hard. Even though none of his classmates ever seemed to notice – something didn’t feel right.

 _Sam_ didn’t feel right.

This was what he had always wanted – get away from the hunting life and just be _normal_ … wasn’t it?

But no matter how hard he tried, Sam had never felt like he truly belonged here. Not even Jess had changed that.

Sam simply wasn’t a _normal_ student, he conceded. He had faced true evil, death even. He was a warrior, a fighter, a hunter … well – not anymore.

Then again, back when he had been all those things, he had never felt like he belonged either. Wherever he went, something didn’t feel right.

Sam always felt out of place.

As if he were a _freak_ – so unlike from the other college kids but also so different from his dad.

Neither a scholar nor a hunter, just a person not quite fitting anywhere in the world.

At this thought, a familiar heaviness settled in his chest.

Sam opened his eyes, his lids leaden. His pupils adjusted to the semi-darkness of his surroundings within the blink of an eye – another residual effect of his hunter-past.

Then, even though he had tried hard to avoid it in those past minutes, his mind started wandering … to the one person who made him whole, like he had a place in the world after all.

 _Dean_.

Thinking of his big brother sent a piercing stab in his heart, just like all the other times he’d been reflecting on his life in the middle of the night. That had happened a lot in the past few months.

It hurt.

_Every. Single. Time._

With him, Sam had always been able to be himself. Dean had never judged, had taken him as he was – even _loved_ him as the freak he was. If there was a place on earth where he felt like he belonged, it was with his brother.

Sam stifled a wistful sigh.

Because the one person he missed the most was also the one person that could threaten to pull him back into the life he had run away from. Sam could only imagine a single reason to go back to hunting – and it was Dean. He was his greatest weakness.

It wasn’t like his brother had tried to drag him back in the past three years. Dean had let him go, despite everything. But Sam was sure, if Dean ever came running, needing his help, begging him to go with him, he wouldn’t have the heart to say no.

Because Sam had always looked up to Dean. Wherever Dean went, Sam went too.

They were so different in some ways, yet alike in so many others.

After all, they were two halves of a whole. And Sam was missing his better half.

The brothers were so close – _or had been?_ Sam sadly corrected himself – that they completed each other. Without their counterpart it would always feel like there was a cold emptiness in their hearts that can never be filled.

Dean was everything to him: brother, friend, surrogate parent.

Dean was home.

At this point, Sam felt tears prick at his eyes but swallowed the outburst of emotion away quickly.

Instead, without even noticing, he found his hand instinctively move to a secured drawer under his desk. Without even so much as looking at the combo lock, his practiced fingers set the embossed numbers to the correct combination: Dean’s birthday.

And then, after months of not laying a finger on this drawer (and not ever telling Jess, or anyone for that matter, about what was inside) he finally opened it.

For a second, he blinked at the keepsakes of his past.

After composing himself, Sam rummaged through a bunch of mementos. A small bag of rock salt, a flask of holy water, a silver-coated hunting knife … until he found what he was looking for.

Sam conjured up a cellphone and its charger.

Without thinking further, he shoved the law book aside, placed the phone on the desk and plugged it in the outlet by the desk lamp. He then turned the device on, waiting for the screen to light up.

Finally, the long unused – _secret_ – phone came to life.

Sam stared at the small display, suddenly a pang of disappointment reflecting in his features.

Zero messages, zero calls.

Dean had not tried to contact him – not on his regular phone (Sam checked _every_ day) and not on his hunting phone – just like Sam had not contacted Dean in months.

Sam sighed sorrowfully.

He peered at the phone a little while longer, his index finger hovering over the asterisk symbol in his contact list that was his brother. Asterisk as in favorite. And he was. Dean was Sam’s favorite person in the world. He was a part of him, always would be.

And that’s why, even after all these years, his heart was aching for his big brother. Because ditching the hunting life had also meant leaving _Dean_ – which equaled leaving a part of himself behind.

It had been the hardest choice of his life.

Sometimes he wondered if he had made the right decision.

Sam’s finger unconsciously moved over the keys of his phone, selecting the asterisk symbol, finally revealing his brother’s name. He was only one step away from dialing Dean’s number – but he stopped himself at the last second.

What was he going to tell him anyway?

_Hey Dean, it’s me, your disloyal little brother. I feel bad about leaving you. Please comfort me like you used to when we were kids – and then go away so I don’t cave in and start hunting again._

Sam chuckled humorlessly.

Every fiber in him was sick for the only person who truly understood him – whom he had hurt _majorly_ only to fulfill his selfish dream of a normal life.

Sam felt a familiar twinge in his gut … shame, regret, guilt. He had never wanted to hurt Dean. But he had anyway.

He knew he had never made life easy for Dean. As the _big brother_ , Dean had always felt responsible for his kid brother, had watched out for him, had kept him safe from the monster in his closet (among other things). At the same time, as the _oldest son_ , Dean had always wanted to make Dad proud, had been desperate to show him he was strong and capable, and had longed for his attention.

It had always been a tightrope act for Dean, balancing his love for Sam and his obedience to Dad. He had more than once been caught in the middle of their fights.

By now, Sam had to clench his jaw hard against the rising melancholy.

He missed Dean _so damn much_.

And he wanted him by his side, _right now_.

But Dean was possibly half across the country on some hunt, not sparing a thought about his little brother. Or maybe he was thinking of him but was too wrapped up in the life anyway. Sam couldn’t really tell what Dean was feeling which bothered him more than he could admit. It felt like the brothers’ special connection had rusted a little in the time they had spent apart.

He bit back his frustration.

Actually _seeing_ Dean was probably out of question. But even just hearing his voice on the phone would ease Sam’s restless mind.

Should he call Dean after all?

Then again, if he got the chance to listen to the familiar rumbling voice or, better yet, clasp his brother in his arms at this moment, he wasn’t sure he could ever let go again.

And the only way to be with Dean was to be hunting. Dean would always be under Dad’s orders. It truly was a dilemma.

Sam’s finger still lingered on the tiny green key on his phone.

It was a tugging war between his heart and his mind – the heart begging and pleading to finally be reunited with its missing piece, the mind reasoning, screaming at him to finally break away from the deep yet painful bond with his brother for the sake of normalcy.

His chest was constricting with inner turmoil.

Sam closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.

He was used to brooding and reflecting on existential questions, but this wasn’t getting any easier with time.

_Grit your teeth and get to it._

So, this time, he made his decision in a split second – before he could change his mind.

Finally, he pressed a key on his phone and anxiously waited.

Waited.

Waited some more.

Then the screen shut off.

Sam sighed, unplugged the phone, and put it away with all the other reminders of Dean. Afterwards he closed the drawer and locked it.

For another minute or so, Sam remained seated at the desk, his body tense.

He had just decided, counterintuitively, _not_ to call Dean.

His decision hurt, and it was selfish, and he’d probably regret it.

But he couldn’t let himself get sucked into the life he had wanted to leave behind so bad – and dive right back into the toxic codependency that was his family, formed by the perils of hunting. He had to acknowledge that he still wanted _normal_ so bad – even if it was just his own freakish version of the ordinary which, apparently, didn’t even include happiness. God, he was so messed up.

Sam needed to _live_ instead of just _survive_. He was egoistic in that way.

His choice didn’t make him feel any better though. He was miserable.

Still unsure, still hurting, still ashamed, and a thousand other emotional states all at once, Sam slowly got up from his chair and finally walked back to the bedroom. He paused in the doorway for a moment, watching his girl in her quiet sleep.

Then, Sam tiptoed over to the bed, silently settled down next to Jess and gazed up at the ceiling, painfully awake for the rest of this short night.

_I’m sorry, Dean._

…

However, Sam wasn’t aware that Dean had just gone through a similar decision-making-process, coming to a conclusion of his own. Namely, he was on his way to Stanford at this very moment.

After all, Sam and Dean belonged together, no matter the pain that went along with the love.

**The end.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) 
> 
> Those of you who know my other fic ‘Missing Piece’ might recognize some of the lines. In this story some phrases are mirrored or reversed on purpose, leading to a different outcome.


End file.
